


Intermission

by triumphforks



Series: Ares/Orion Gouenji/Kidou Drabbles [4]
Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven: Ares no Tenbin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 02:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17540957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triumphforks/pseuds/triumphforks
Summary: Hanging out after the FF prelims and before the start of the finals.





	Intermission

It had reached the time of night that most would be drawing their curtains, turning off the lights, and bringing the day to a close. But for a place as large as the Kidou house, those small rituals that others used to mark the passage of time barely registered. Kidou himself had yet to notice the time, instead having spent the past short while gathering all the last-round matches and queuing them on his TV. For something he did so often, he sure seemed to run in to a hell of a lot of trouble getting it going - but he managed, eventually, and fell back on his lounge and got the first match started just as his door swung open.

 

Gouenji walked in, and pushed the door shut behind him. He couldn’t help but smile - more than that, really, a grin - completely unprompted, uncontrolled, genuine. Gouenji was dressed down, loose shirt, trackpants, patting at his damp hair with a towel lazily draped across his shoulders. He made his way over, a quizzical look on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Cute,” he replied, reaching out to tug at a stray curl of blonde hair. But his own hand was caught - and he himself was tugged forward, the small space between them closed, pulled in for a short and unexpected kiss. It was over in a moment, and just as quickly he’d fallen back to his set, face burning. This was something he still wasn’t quite used to; and, admittedly, he didn’t want to be. Because with his heart racing, and his face undoubtedly red, and overanalysing every move so as to not betray any of it… well, it was exciting, and he wanted to hold on to that for as long as possible.

“You’re cute too.” Gouenji sat beside him, going back to wringing the last of the water from his hair.

“Mm,” was the only reply he trusted himself to make. He looked over, briefly, a sneaking glance while the other’s attention was fixed on the television. How did he look so calm? So collected, so casual? A mystery.

 

“What match is this?”

“Zeus,” he said, turning his own attention back to the screen. _You’re meant to be studying this!_

“They got better, didn’t they?” Movement, to his side. The towel was tossed to a nearby table, and there was more movement as Gouenji searched to get comfortable, finally settling on curling up on the lounge and resting his head on his shoulder.

“Good, but not unbeatable.” He leaned in to this new position, finding his own space of comfort. This - this closeness - it didn’t bother him so much. It felt more natural, in a way, an almost innocent kind of intimacy.

“You know who you’re playing yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll cheer for you anyway. Win it for Raimon.”

He laughed at that. “Me? What if I’m up against Endou?”

He was surprised when there wasn’t a reply - a short pause, fine, but this break in the back-and-forth had gone for so long, if he couldn’t feel Gouenji next to him he’d almost think he’d disappeared.

“Gouenji?”

“Hang on, I’m still thinking.”

He laughed again. “You can cheer for Endou. It’s OK, I’ll forgive you.”

A muffled laugh from his shoulder. “So kind.”

“I’m always kind.”

Another silence, but one more natural, the match on the screen drawing their full attention. Small comments, here and there - remarking on a play, sympathy at a close goal - but eventually he found himself so drawn to the match, his mind so full with taking in every detail, breaking down every step, that he became somewhat separate from reality. That was until there was a lull in the play, and he was pulled back to the present by a certain movement - small, but deliberate, Gouenji’s arm twining around his own and taking hold of his hand.

 

“Kidou?” His name broke the long quiet, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was just his imagination, but it seemed to hold some underlying quietness in itself, too.

“Yeah?”

“Have you picked a high school yet?”

He paused, breath caught, thrown by the question.

“No.” A pause, and then- “Why?” Wooden words. There was now another part of his mind, one that had cut itself off from the soccer strategising to dig at this new problem instead.

“No reason.” A break, soon followed up- “Just thinking how nice it would be if everyone was together again.”

 _Ah._ There it was. There was more movement to his side, and it seemed to draw them closer. And he wanted to move closer - as much as one could, even when there was nothing like physical distance between them - but there was a knot inside him too, a nagging discomfort that held him to caution.

“Gouenji… you OK?”

“Mm.”

That did nothing for his discomfort. But what more could he do? Words meant so little, he thought, and so instead he gave a soft squeeze to the hand still entwined with his own. There was another squeeze in reply, and somehow, that was reassuring - more so than the half reply he’d been given before.

 

His attention went back to the match. The last few minutes were uneventful, and of course, ended with the Zeus victory. He had some thoughts he knew he had to get to paper before they left him, but found it hard to justify their urgency when he was so comfortable, and kept so warm by the boy at his side. He almost considered risking the move. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to find this space of comfort again. He shifted slightly, looked over to say he was just going to move, just for a bit - but when he did, he saw Gouenji had already fallen asleep, his expression so soft and at ease. He found himself smiling again. _Cute._

 

He didn’t need to get things down so soon, he supposed. There wasn’t any real rush. He’d remember wha he needed to, he was sure of it. And the remote was in reach - he could lean over juuuust like that, move without causing too much disturbance, and get the next match going. He could keep this - this small space of comfort - going, just for a little longer.


End file.
